Sarah exhaled. “Smart,” she said. “I’ll notify the sheriff’s office that the protective order remains active regardless of emergency conditions. And Eleanor—if you evacuate, go somewhere your son doesn’t know.”
“He doesn’t know my hotel preferences,” I replied.
“Good,” Sarah said. “Keep it that way.”
Two days later, the storm strengthened.
The weather warnings shifted from casual to urgent. Evacuation orders began for lower-lying areas. The management company called every guest in the next week’s bookings, offering rescheduling or cancellation without penalty. Some people chose to come anyway—because people who don’t live near the ocean tend to think storms are entertainment until the power goes out.
Kara and Matt decided to leave early.
“We don’t want to be trapped,” Kara said, hugging herself against the wind. “My mother would have a heart attack if we stayed.”
“I don’t blame her,” I said. “Drive safe.”
They left with polite gratitude, and the house fell quiet again.
That’s when Brandon tried to come back into the story.
Not with a knock.
With a post.